Archive for the ‘I March To The Beat Of My Own Drummer’ Category

Okay, first thing’s first,

the basest thing,


I was alone and without a job and/or income.

What, me worry?


I didn’t have a job and/or income in my early childhood

and I was somewhat happier then than I have been of late,

I rationalized to myself, effecting a simper.

Yes, the future was ahead of me back then,

I was 100% potential,


predetermined to an extent,


so why not be excited by going back to the future thus?


Changing global labor realities,

we are expected to be adaptable,

blah, blah, blah,

news reports and experts know

the robots are coming.

I took a sip of beer.




A lot can happen in one day,

or even in a few minutes, within a day.

Things can come together,

or fall apart.

Lives can change,

good and bad.

The phone rang again.

I answered.

She said it was good news.

I was confused.

(We all have a different perspective…)

I was presented with a problem,

and a distinct lack of choice.

What I was being told to do was an impossibility,

but how could I say no?

Words jarred, clashed and clanged inside my flushed, rising temperature head.

So, I said: “Thank you for letting me know…”

without actually saying I’d do as expected.

Good bye.

I guessed it meant I’d be on my own from then on,

with a target on my back.

Hollow, somewhat gutted,

I felt free.


The Poet,

The Writer,

The Reader,

The Thinker,


Spoken, Unspoken, Mindful,

Reflective, Projective,


Monumental and Immortal.

If you are reading these words,

in the future,

then the present is already the past,

and your future is,

probably not what you imagined it would be,



for so long as one of us breathes,

and reads,

and thinks deeply,

there is hope.


“So, what do you do for a living?” he asked.

“I breathe,” I replied.

He raised his eyebrows and smiled,

then, when he realized I wasn’t going to add anything more,

he nodded thoughtfully,

slowly taking it on board,

almost frowning.


Obeying my body and soul,

I opt out,

for a season or three,

I need peace,

screw your outward pretences,

fuck society’s ideas,

this is me,


The moment

and the existence of life,

perchance to sleep and dream,



close enough,

I say,


the right stuff.

The essential, personal rapture,

no one else understands.


You can’t control genius,


let it control you.

Go forth and prosper,

change the world,

listening to the still, small voice within,

ignoring the clanging cymbals without.


Today I bought myself a Birthday card,

a road cyclist on the front.

Through the watercolor, kinetic hues,

I could see that it was Lance Armstrong,

Team RadioShack days.

The card wasn’t trying to be ironic,

nor was it discounted in price.

That I would buy the Birthday card,

or even want to,

says something about me,


and society.


I do as I feel the Spirit leads,


I will be lost to the human system,

for an indefinite while,

I believe.